


Group Project

by Omg_i_cannot_even



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 21:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10999086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omg_i_cannot_even/pseuds/Omg_i_cannot_even
Summary: Castiel Novak joins college expecting a life of run-down dorm rooms and late night study-sprees. His only hope? Avoid living in the shadow of his older brothers, at all costs. With his scuffed sneakers and too-big hoodie, he’s sure to fit in. But then he crashes into Dean. And Cas no longer knows what to feel, let alone what fitting in means. Especially when art club opens up, and Cas finds himself paired with Dean for the project. Circumstances could not be any more awkward.The growing tension between both Dean and Cas is evident. If their peers don’t step in soon, the art club will prove a disaster. Within days, a Group Project is up and running. The goal? Get sparks to fly.





	Group Project

**Author's Note:**

> A current Destiel WIP! This is my first long-term fic project, so feedback is very much appreciated! I hope to update with a new chapter once per month, but I may not always be able to update!

Term time. It was an ironically gloomy day for college to be starting up; all overcast skies and lingering puddles - the weather had definitely taken a turn for the melancholy: trees were already beginning to lose their viridian sheen, the emerald rainbow fading to a dull and dreary patchwork of celadon. Yes, summer was long gone without a doubt; this much was clear to the students flooding through the hideous wrought-iron gates that quite frankly had needed replacing for far too long; ivy snaked through the gaps, the entire gateway leaning towards the college. People ambled up the aged stone pathway, shoes stepping around the weeds that grew in tandem through the cracks; their excited chatter filled the air, the crowd moving and jostling as one, rather syncopated body; a sea of backpacks and satchels churning with waves of newly-scrubbed Vans. Meanwhile, Campus loomed over the crowds, it’s aged taupe bricks and overlooking tower shadowing the students like omniscient observers. The building greeted the masses with a contented warmth, its walls having missed the buzz of study-fuelled conversation. College was officially getting into gear.

Castiel Novak glanced down at the gum-littered carpet, worn toes of his yellow converse scuffing together as he made his way down the residential campus hallways. He’d been left luggage-less after Michael had insisted on hauling the various suitcases he’d packed up what may as well have been twenty agonising flights of stairs. Various students were swinging out of doorways, a couple of them nodding to Cas in acknowledgement before returning to their eager conversation. Worn key ring jangling quietly, he fingered the small plastic label that displayed his room number.  
“Cas? Room 44, isn’t it?” A noticeably breathless Michael trudged around the corner, nodding his head towards a worn-down door. Scratches littered the surface, and the brown gloss had been worn away at the corners. With some reluctance, Castiel unlocked the door, the lock clicking in a way that probably wasn’t very healthy for a lock. And, with typical College charm, the door creaked. He rolled his eyes, and stepped inside his dorm for the first time.  
It wasn’t that bad, by college standards. Grey carpet stretched across the expanse of the floor, and black walls seemed to suck up a good majority of the dim September sun. A pair of beds sat either side of the window, their stark wooden frames looming over the barren mattress. There was even a small kitchen unit, which Castiel supposed he should be grateful for. Michael followed, suitcase clunking behind. With a sigh of relief, he dropped the baggage, and dusted his hands.  
“Well, if you need anything else, bro, I’m in two-hundred and twenty-two. Your roommate should be here soon, anyway. They’re probably just late.”  
At the mention of his roommate, Castiel’s fingers moved to brush over the welcome letter in his pocket. The paper had said he’d been placed with...Jo Harvelle? He frowned - it was 5pm and she was yet to show up.  
“Yeah,” His response sounded dull, eyebrows laced together as he turned to look at the pile of luggage. Unpacking was going to take a while.  
“Look, I gotta go meet Luci, but I’ll text dad, let him know we’re settled. See ya.” With that, his brother swung back into the hallway, hand resting on the doorframe as he turned to face Cas.  
“Oh, and one more thing: Go see who your neighbours are. Best to make yourself known.”  
“Ok.” Tossing a quick smile in Michael’s direction, the brunette watched his sibling disappear, before getting to his feet with a huff. He was halfway to the door when it became blocked by a flash of...well, it looked like fire, but after an alarmed blink, Cas realised it was just red and yellow. And it moved. Fast.  
“Hi! Did someone mention neighbours? Room 45, nice to meet you!” Black coat. Positively glaring Gryffindor scarf. Auburn hair. A grin to rival the sun. The girl held out her hand, warmth practically oozing into the surrounding air.  
“Hello. I’m Castiel. Nice to meet you too,” Smile plastered on, he returned the handshake, wincing slightly as suddenly his arm was yanked up and down with the force of a mild earthquake.  
“Charlie! I’m Charlie. You just get here?” She stepped past Castiel and into the dorm, perching cheerfully on the bare mattress by the window.  
“Uh, yeah.” The Novak stepped hesitantly back inside, and turned to lean against the wall beside an upturned box. Michael must’ve knocked it over on his way out.  
“So you haven’t seen campus yet? I could show you around! They have a sick games store, I went there yesterday-”  
“Actually, my brothers are students here too. I’ve already been given the tour. But thank you for the offer.”  
“Oh, cool! That’s fine. Your roommate late, or something?”  
“I think so,” Castiel folded his arms, eyebrows furrowed. Charlie shrugged in response, her legs swinging above the floor.  
A brief knock on the door had both their heads turning.  
“That...would be me,” There was a certain faintness to the voice that only came after running up copious amounts of stairs. And the exhausted kid stepping through the door was no exception to this rule. In one decisive motion, all of her bags were tossed to the floor. Arms hanging limp, she gave a weak smile.  
“Hey, I’m Jo. Castiel here?” The girl in the doorway cocked her head, trailing mop of blonde hair swinging in time. Small honey-tinted curls along her hairline had become glued down with sweat, a navy tank top clinging to her waist whilst a khaki jacket was weighed down at the pockets, the fabric bulging with small knick-knacks that Castiel supposed wouldn’t fit in her suitcase. Toes of her black cowboy boots tapping the ground to an inaudible beat, Jo dusted her hands on her faded blue jeans.  
“Yes, you’re my roommate, right?” Cas sent a smile her way, and moved aside as Charlie stepped forward to give Jo a hyperactive greeting.  
“Alright, then,” She stepped away from hugging a relatively dazed Jo, and cracked her knuckles.  
“Let’s get to packing.”  
______________________________________________________________________________  
A worrying clunk sounded from the trunk as the Impala trundled onto the campus parking lot. Already, the blotched-out sun was sinking into the horizon, dying for the day in an explosion of scarlet and marigold that would undoubtedly leak onto the trees within the next couple months. Knuckles clenched around the steering wheel like vices, Dean Winchester slammed on the breaks, a miniature tsunami of week-old rainwater and stray pebbles raging over the concrete. With a slight puff, he turned in his seat, one arm strewn over the top as he spoke.  
“Sammy, grab your bags. Go!”  
The boy beside him sprung into action, leaping from his chair like a bullet and sprinting around to grab various bags and boxes, tossing a couple to Dean once the car was locked. It was mere seconds before both brothers were jogging towards the door, juggling countless bags and boxes. As the pair of them approached the door, Dean turned, back pressing into the overly heavy wood and shoving it ajar. Seconds later, the younger Winchester followed, and both students found themselves in the lobby.  
“Room 57, right Sammy?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Alright, I’ll help ya unpack. Was gonna get my stuff later anyway.”  
“Thanks, Dean.” Two sets of feet pounded up the stairs two at a time, in complete synchronisation; a silent race to the top. A pair of worn-down boots and a couple of hand-me-down sneakers. A rhythm formed of drawn-out breaths between steps. The tune: an unpredictable jangling from the keys inside Dean’s pocket. It was like a never ending liminal space - up, and up, and up. At one point the older Winchester could’ve sworn he saw the staircase shifting in the corner of his vision...that, or the long night drive to campus had messed with his head. However, an infinity later, both teens came to the top; they sunk low on their knees, legs burning as they trudged in the rough direction of Sam’s dorm.  
“Fifty-one, fifty-two…” The younger Winchester scanned the door numbers, paying no mind to the various Freshmen rushing along the corridor. There was music floating out of some doors, infusing the air with a sort of underlying rhythm that buzzed with pre-term eagerness. Fifty-seven - the number was nailed haphazardly to the wood. In fact, as Sam stepped back to let Dean unlock the door, he noticed that the seven was slightly skewed; a detail that would undoubtedly bother him in the future.  
“Well, here ya are...not exactly Stanford, huh?”  
_________________________________________________  
Two hours and twenty cardboard boxes later, three exhausted students collapsed onto the newly made bed. A heady mix of guitar and Bon Jovi pulsated through the air, Jo’s record player having fuelled the past eternity of unpacking that the trio had endured.  
“Ughh….I can’t feel my legs…” The groan sounded from somewhere in Charlie’s general direction, followed by the sight of two jean-clad legs inching further and further off of the mattress as she slipped. An amused giggle slipped from Cas’ lips as he watched his...friend? fall onto the carpet before abruptly scrambling back up onto the bed, dislodging the painstakingly organised bedsheets as she went.  
“Chaarlie, why you gotta mess up the sheets?!” Castiel watched as Jo whined playfully, repeatedly nudging the redhead until she was brutally shoved off of the furniture for the second time. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at their childishness, yet for some reason found himself smiling anyway.  
“Joo, why you gotta be so mean?” Charlie mimicked, shrieking when said mean person tackled her milliseconds later.  
“Quick, Cas! Pick a side!” Having gained the upper hand, her forearm pinning Jo’s wrists in place, Charlie turned to Cas for backup. He froze, gaze flitting between the pair of squabbling neighbours with uncertainty - after a few seconds of mental deliberation, he leapt into the dog pile, a loud battle cry rising in his throat.  
“How about I don’t choose?!” Cas tackled Charlie at the speed of light; their bodies tumbled to the floor, the dull thud barely audible over the yelps and laughter. Within seconds, reality descended into a blur of tangled limbs and momentary victories that were quickly changed into devastating failures. Dodging one of Charlie’s swinging hands and grabbing it by the wrist, Cas pinned the redhead, and smiled at her frustrated giggling.  
“Aghh, lemme go!”  
“Nope!”  
A sudden shift in Charlie’s centre of gravity had the two students rolling onto the floor, battling it out by grabbing at each other’s limbs. Jo, of course, then leapt back into the fray, three sets of squirming limbs the only discernible part of the pile. After many grunts and shrieks of indignation, the crush of bodies separated, revealing two breathless teens pinned to the floor whilst a final victor knelt upon their defeated frames, a smug grin of satisfaction on their face.  
“And this, my friends, is where you learn to bow down to Charlie Bradbury,” She grinned, adjusting her plait and rising from the carpet without the slightest regard for either of her crushed friends. Cas let out a rather undignified “oof!” as the air was forced from his lungs, the outward jut of Charlie’s knee cutting into his spine. He placed his hands by his shoulders and heaved himself up slightly, not the least bit surprised when he was greeted with the sight of Charlie assuming a stately position above him. She made a vague gesture with her hand for him to bow - with a slight smirk, Castiel complied, amused when he saw Jo mimicking him to his left.  
“From now on, you shall refer only to me as Queen,” The self-proclaimed monarch of room 44 paused, eyes flitting to the ceiling as an invisible light bulb came to life above her head. She grinned; it was the sort of grin that only came with a beautifully insane idea; the sort that was completely senseless - yet utterly ingenious - in equal parts.  
“Rise: the Queen demands we fetch the Royal Chariots.”  
“Yeah, well I demand you stop speaking in 3rd person like that!”  
“Shut up.”  
_______________________________________  
“Dude, is this all you packed?” Dean glanced at the empty boxes with disdain, a shrug of his shoulders dismissing the question.  
“Yeah - hey, is there a coffee place here?” Sam looked up from his desk, which was littered with bubble wrap and empty folders.  
“I think so. You want me to get some?”  
“Sure, thanks.” He nodded, casually waving his hand in farewell as his brother stepped out the door. A Kansas song faded into nothing on his record player; he got up and reset the needle.

The run-down coffee shop across campus was somewhat quaint, Dean decided. Sure, the crushed fly on the wall had kind of put him off; but coffee was coffee. And the hideous wallpaper running along one face of the room wasn’t actually too hideous - when compared to the art deco lamp shade, that is. Dean shook his head, stepping across the car park towards the campus doors. A gust of wind sent a shiver up his spine, cup holder shaking as he shrugged his letterman jacket closer. He made a silent wish for the weather to improve before heaving the door open with a significant push. The stairs were there to greet him, all ten flights looking anything but inviting in the dim corridor lighting.  
________________________________________  
It was getting to the point where Castiel was beginning to feel less self-conscious; whether that was a good or bad thing, he’d yet to decide. Perhaps it was the latter, he wondered, lowering his head when yet another passerby gave him an odd look.  
“Hey, Cassanova! Your turn!” A bright laugh from somewhere at the bottom of the stairs drew Cas to the handrail. He squinted downwards, making out the shapes of Jo and Charlie amongst the gray tiles of the ground floor. Their boxes were surprisingly still intact. Feet carrying him towards the stairs faster than he’d like, Cas placed his cardboard box on the floor, the front hanging precariously over the precipice of the top stair. Legs folding inside the box, Castiel sat down, one hand gripping the rim of the box in nerves. It didn’t look so bad from this position…  
A sudden shift in his centre of gravity had Castiel launching off the edge earlier than he’d planned. The air rushed past him in a flurry as the breath was knocked from his chest, his world turning into a blur of colour as his stomach dropped with the speed. As his eyes adjusted, they focused on the end of the first flight of stairs, which rounded off into a corner before the next flight started. He braced himself, and reached out one arm in preparation; something he’d seen both Jo and Charlie do. His box reached the last step - fingers latching onto the stair rail, he swung himself around the corner and continued hurtling down the next flight. In a bout of adrenaline-fueled fervor, Cas cheered in exhilaration. One thing was for certain: college could not have started better.  
__________________________________________  
Two girls were standing by the handrail, cardboard boxes clutched at their sides as they laughed and cheered at something Dean didn’t bother taking interest in. He nodded to them, receiving a smile in response as he began the long trek upwards. The coffee cups shook in their holder as he made his way up flight after flight, legs taking the steps two at a time. Dean focused on keeping the drinks stable, breath huffing in and out as he counted down the steps till the third floor. So when a loud thumping sound grew increasingly louder, he paid it no mind. He was almost halfway there.  
__________________________________________  
Cas’ veins were alight with elation as he sped down the stairs, cardboard box making a loud bump-bump-bump against the floor in time with his racing heartbeat. The teen silently praised Charlie for the genius idea; after all, the boxes had to be used for something. And this was definitely a great use for them. As he flew over the steps faster and faster, his world grew more and more chaotic, existence blending into one beautiful, haphazard whirl of pure colour. Life appeared brighter - and, despite the fact he couldn’t see...clearer. His senses were sharp with edged fear and sheer invigoration. Cas focused on the rush of air around him, eyes closing for a moment as he tipped his head back. Which, in hindsight, was probably why he was too busy to notice footsteps sounding from the flight around the corner.  
________________________________________  
Time was decidedly slow in the stairwell, Dean thought. He sped up, hoping to reach the top sooner before the coffees went cold.  
________________________________________  
Seconds felt like nothing as Cas rounded the corner, ready to face the next set of stairs. The box paused in its thumping, and resumed the bump-bump-bumping once it met the steps once more. Eyes open, he noticed a flash of blue amongst the motley of campus colours.  
________________________________________  
Dean’s eyes flicked up for only a second; it was the insanely fast blob hurtling towards him that caught his attention.  
_______________________________________  
They collided; he registered more colour. And then Castiel was falling. Hard.


End file.
